


The Stars Do Not Judge

by myriddin



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Breastfeeding, Childhood Memories, Children, Eloping, F/M, Flashbacks, babies ever after
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-06-08 08:34:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6847336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myriddin/pseuds/myriddin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Targaryen!Sansa/Arthur Dayne- Princess Sansa elopes with her Father's most trusted knight and best friend.</p><p>Background Pairings: Jon/Arya</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, the only way I could think to make this work was a strange little AU where Rhaegar’s obsession dooms his wives to dying in childbirth. Rebellion never occurs, Rhaegar marries Elia (Rhaenys, Aegon), Lyanna (Jon), and Lysa (Sansa).

As the youngest of the royal children, Sansa (formally Visenya, but she had always preferred the pretty Riverlander name* her mother had given her, may the Stranger let her rest in peace) had oft been overshadowed by her beautiful, gregarious siblings and aunt. Only Jon understood how she felt, her kin spirit in being eclipsed by how brightly Aegon, Rhaenys, and Dany seemed to shine.

Being so overlooked had both its benefits and consequences. Sansa’s ladies came from the Riverlands and the Vale, ranging from shy Roslin, lively, bold Myranda, and even her wild cousin, Arya, sent South by Aunt Catelyn who forever despaired her younger daughter’s chafing of a lady’s education.

They mingled little with Rhaenys’ Dornish retinue or Daenerys’, whom hailed mainly from the Stormlands and the Reach, and even if they had, the close-knit group who so adored their sweet, lonely princess considered it verboten to let any gossip escape their ranks. Sansa’s secrets would stay just that, secret.

Her ladies weren’t her only close companions. When Sansa Targaryen thought of the word father, she drew only abstract pictures and dull feelings of familial duty to mind. But when she applied the term to what her septa had once told her, that a father was meant to be a pillar of strength, security, and discipline, it was Ser Barristan’s blue eyes with a twinkle of amusement, Ser Oswell’s dry wit, and Uncle Brynden’s gruff affection that came to mind, not her kingly father’s face.

Then there was Jon, unabashedly her favorite sibling, her playmate, her confidante. It was Jon who came to her with the whispers that their father was planning to betroth them, a thought repugnant to her and Jon both. It was Aegon and Rhaenys who felt that way about each other, not her and Jon. And with Daenerys betrothed to Willas Tyrell, the alternative to resisting the match to Jon would likely be cruel Joffrey Baratheon. Sansa shuddered to think of either fate.

There truly wasn’t a safer place than when Jon wrapped his arms around her, tall and strong in the only way he resembled Rhaegar. “Whatever you decide to do, little sister, I’m with you."

There were consequences to being as overlooked as Sansa and Jon Targaryen had been. Their father had raised Summerhall from ashes and rubble to serve as Jon’s seat, and Jon’s expressed desire to visit his castle coincided with Ser Arthur Dayne’s release from his Kingsguard vows. Unprecedented perhaps, but his sister Allyria’s marriage to the Lord of Blackhaven had left their nephew Edric as House Dayne’s singular heir, and to save Lord Allem from having to remarry as he still mourned the loss of his lady, Arthur saw fit to ask the King to be released, so he may return home, wed and help to replenish his house.

When Sansa eagerly asked to accompany her brother, what reason did Rhaegar have to refuse? Everyone knew how close the younger prince and princess were, after all, and why not let his daughter see the castle that would be her home as well? And why shouldn’t Ser Brynden be the Kingsguard to accompany them (The Blackfish, so determined to see his great-niece happy after watching poor Lysa falter and fall apart when Rhaegar grew distant after Sansa’s birth, trying desperately to conceive a son she felt would win back her husband’s affection and instead leading to her death in the birthing bed)?

Her devoted ladies should be part of the company, of course, and what luck that Ser Arthur was leaving for Dorne at the same time!

Handsome, gallant and kind, Arthur Dayne was everything she could possibly look for in a husband. It was difficult to pinpoint the first time a certain look in his violet eyes, the strong cut of his jaw, the sway of his pale blonde hair in the wind, caused a heated shiver to ripple down her spine. But the feeling had only built up as she grew closer to age of majority, and it was a month past her sixteenth nameday when she married Ser Arthur atop Starfall’s highest tower, a double wedding alongside her brother and cousin, thrilled that both Jon and Arya had found someone who would never want to change them.

She leaned back against her husband’s chest, gently swaying in time with the warm breeze carrying the salt and crisp of the sea. “Look up, Princess,” Arthur whispered softly in her ear, “Above this castle you will always see the stars bearing witness to the world below them. But the stars, my love, they never judge. As long as you stand within their gaze, you can count on their gentle acceptance.”

“Then let them witness this princess be happy at last.”


	2. Chapter 2

“ _I’m pregnant,”_ had been words said within Ser Arthur Dayne’s hearing only twice before in his life, each time falling from his princess’ lips. The first was a tired, wary admittance from the fragile, graceful girl he’d played with in the Water Gardens turned Targaryen princess, the shadow of Rhaegar’s slight from tourney at Harrenhal and the danger she had faced bringing Rhaenys into the world looming over the happy news.                

Elia was the first princess he failed, choosing to blindly obey in Rhaegar’s mad quest to secure his “third head of the dragon”, then failed Lyanna Stark in turn by keeping her as a virtual prisoner, left alone in her despair and grief until she was too weak to survive the birthing bed. When Rhaegar brought home pretty, sweet Lysa Tully, Arthur was determined not to fail her too.

Visenya's- _Sansa’s_ -birth led to Rhaegar’s distance from his youngest wife, and Arthur’s overtures of friendship were rebuffed in favor of Lysa’s fruitless efforts to regain Rhaegar’s attention. The Kingsguard doted on the littlest princesses, and where Rhaenys had Ser Lewyn and Ser Gerold wrapped around her finger, Arthur, Oswell, and Barristan were enthralled by a little auburn-haired river sprite.

Lysa passed, Viserys was fostered, and Sansa, Jon, and Daenerys were taken by The Queen Mother to Dragonstone. Arthur missed when the little blue-eyed angel grew from coltish girl to beautiful, graceful woman, and when she came looking for his help, how was he to refuse her? Especially when the warm affection he remembered became a burning in his blood whenever river-blue eyes met his.

“I’m pregnant,” his princess, his wife, told him with breathless wonder and his joy knew little bounds. And holding little Allia in his arms, copper curls and violet eyes marking the beauty she would grow to be, the ghosts of his failures finally began to fade and the possibilities of the future never felt brighter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: When his King ordered him to steal another Stark girl, Arthur decides that it's finally time to take off his White Cloak.

Arthur blinked rapidly, certain he hadn’t just heard what he thought he had. “Pardon, Your Grace?”

Rhaegar tore himself away from his dusty scrolls just long enough to spare him a glance implying Arthur was a simpleton for not comprehending the first time the King had spoken. “I was wrong in thinking Lysa could give me my Visenya. My original interpretation was correct- it has to be a daughter of House Stark. Lady Arya may prove to be more hard-headed than her aunt, I will need your and the rest of the Kingsguard’s assistance.”

It took all of his effort not to let his feeling of utter revulsion show on his face. His white cloak had never felt so heavy. “I…I live to serve, Your Grace.”

Rhaegar gave him a satisfied smile and nod, turning back to his scrolls. Arthur’s mind raced through plans and contingencies, locking onto one singular thing he had to do before anything else could move forward. He needed to speak with his Princess. 

A month later, his sisters presented him with a silver-trimmed lilac cloak their father had worn to wed their mother, settling light and comfortable around his shoulders. 

In King’s Landing, a heavy white cloak lay abandoned and gathering dust, while at the top of Starfall’s tallest tower, it’s former owner truly left it behind as he proudly draped a beautiful Dayne cloak around his Princess.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: bb Targ!Sansa/Arthur D.- Father, Aeg and Jon are always busy so she asks Ser Arthur to play "Knights and Maidens" with her.

_Big blue eyes stared up at him imploringly_ _, and Ser Arthur Dayne-_ _the Sword of the Morning, hero of Robert's Rebellion,_ _subduer_ _of the_ _Kingswood_ _Brotherhood, slayer of the Smiling Knight, Champion of the Iron Throne- found his will weakening almost immediately._  

 _"Please, Ser Arthur," the princess pleaded. "Father has Jon and Egg attending court, and Vis says he's too old for play. Will you be my knight?"_  

 _Arthur hesitated. In the background, he could hear_ _Oswell_ _snickering, and even solemn Barristan cracked a smile, then_ _surprisingly being the one to come to Arthur's rescue. "I'll take your place in the Great Hall, Arthur, if you'd like to join_ _Oswell_ _in watching the princesses."_  

 _"I-thank you, Barristan. If you truly wouldn't mind," Arthur gratefully responded, knowing he was malleable_ _as bread dough to his princess as Sansa beamed brightly at the men, and tucked her little hand into Arthur's._  

Big violet eyes stared up at him imploringly, a little cupid's bow mouth pursing into a pout. "Please, Papa?"  

Arthur felt himself wavering before he'd even begun. "You shouldn't leave out the other children, Ally. Why can't Arron or Edric be your knight?" 

Though he could see the urge to huff and roll her eyes in his daughter's face, Allia was too much her mother's daughter to let go of her courtesies. "Neddy went with Uncle Allem this morning, Papa, and Arron's going to be the monster." 

Arthur eyed his son, a happy little lad with plump cheeks, a mop of pale blond hair, and his mother's eyes, looking truly ferocious as he contently chewed on the foot of one of Allia's dolls, drooling a bit on the toy's homemade dress. "I see..." He trailed off, meeting his wife's amused gaze as she shifted the little red-haired bundle nestled to her breast, presumably switching Lyselle from one breast to the other as their youngest nursed. "Go play with her, Arthur. Lysie and I will sit here and enjoy the beautiful day." 

Arthur surrendered, just barely able to steal one last kiss before Allia tucking her hand into his and eagerly led him away.  

**Author's Note:**

> *I’m aware Sansa turned about to be a Stark name, but for sake of the narrative, it’s from the Riverlands.


End file.
